


Masterpiece

by starfrickr



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Retail, Anonymity, Art, Falling In Love, M/M, Painting, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfrickr/pseuds/starfrickr
Summary: A British man falls in love with a man who falls in love with his paintings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know its been super long since I've properly written anything here, but I'm really excited about this! I'll update it whenever I get around to it!! :)

Gavin Free practically jumped up from his light slumber after hearing the familiar sound of the bell on the door of his shop chiming, indicating it was his favourite time of the week. At least, one of the two favourite times. Michael Jones traipsed through the door, coffee in his hand and bags under his eyes. Yet immediately, his eyes lit up once Gavin turned the corner.

"Gavin! Hey buddy. Feels like it's been forever!" Michael smiled.

"It does, my boy! But nothing new has come in since last week, I'm afraid. You're out of luck," Gav shrugged and took his seat behind the counter.

"That's okay. I don't mind coming in to check things out again."

Michael always walked over to the same group of paintings first. Gavin's paintings. Although Michael didn't know it, Gav's paintings were always the first ones he gravitated towards.

"I love this one. I can't believe they're all anonymous," Michael smiled to himself, running his fingers over a painting of a winter scene. Gavin kept as straight of a face as he could and shrugged.

The two roamed through to the back of the shop, where Gavin made himself a cup of coffee and Michael sat down with his own - he only drank Starbucks. They chatted until another customer came in and Gav had to jog to the front again. Michael left not too long after, but not without taking one more look at the paintings he was so in love with.

This was a twice-weekly occurrence with Gav and Michael. Michael would come in, look around, the two would talk, and he would leave for home. Every single Wednesday and Sunday. Yet, Gavin had his own routine. His shop was never too busy, so he spent the majority of his time in the back with his canvases and paints, drawing inspiration from the talent-filled works that were present in his own store. He left his paintings near the door to the back room, strewn at the wall, while the paintings from other artists were gracefully hanging on walls throughout the entire store, both downstairs and upstairs. Since the first time he came in, Michael was drawn towards the only untidy paintings available. After rifling through them for quite a long time on his first visit, he decided on a very brightly-coloured painting, with a single flower as the focus of it all. From then on, he came in twice a week to look around more and talk to Gavin, since they became fast friends.

Gavin had never wanted to tell his friend that the paintings that he was so curious about were painted by him. He had never thought they would get this kind of attention, even if from one person. So he left the paintings nameless, producing them quicker, thus getting better rapidly.

Now Gavin had hit a block. An art block. Every day that he was at work, he stood with a paintbrush in his hand and a canvas in front of him, but no motivation or inspiration to do anything. This only got worse since he felt a constant need to impress Michael, who grew more and more fond of the paintings every time a new one turned up.

Back at home, tossing and turning as he tried his best to get some sleep, Gav thought about what he could do to get out of his rut. His thoughts traveled to Michael. His soft and attractive medium brown hair, his wonderful eyes and how they sparkled in the shop's lighting, the way he laughed when Gavin told a joke they both knew was terrible...

After hesitating for a moment, Gav grabbed a spare canvas he had in his room for moments like these, as well as a handful of paintbrushes and a few paints. After scrambling to find his easel, he rushed to the window in his kitchen - it gave him the most inspiration - and took a deep breath before mapping out the prettiest face he knew.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow sorry i basically died recently, oh well ! im kinda back w just this lil part so ! comments & kudos are appreciated !

Six in the morning. That was the time that Gavin's eyes closed for the first time that night. Surrounding him in his slumber were piles of sketches and very rushed paintings on small canvases. Rosy cheeks and a lovestruck smile were painted on the Englishman's face as he slept. 

Eight in the morning. The thing that awoke him was an alarm. An alarm for work.

Oh fuck. Work.

He leapt up and scurried into the bathroom to dare a look at what such a rough night's sleep on his kitchen floor had done to him. The result mortified him. 

His hair stuck out in every conceivable direction, and grease clung to it like moss to a damp wall. He disapprovingly ran his fingers through it and cringed at his reflection. Oh well. There were things to be done.

The Brit grabbed the bottle of dry shampoo that he kept in the bathroom for times he forgot to go back to his room. After a quick spray and a splash of water onto his face, he strolled out of his house and into his car, but not before grabbing a stack of paintings so that he could continue with them in the shop. He fumbled with the knobs and turned the music up just enough so that he didn’t fall asleep on his way to work.

Arriving just one minute late, he scurried into the shop and turned the sign to ‘open’. A quick shake of his greasy hair and a spray of the backup deodorant he kept in the employee bathroom and he was ready for the day. A loud crash sounded throughout the shop as the door opened and hit the wall. Gav rushed back into the main room and was greeted by a middle-aged, grumpy-looking woman. She smiled, and he wasn’t sure whether to run or smile back. He settled for the latter.

“Good morning, can I help you?” The Brit asked politely.

“Aren’t you too young to work here?” The woman frowned back.

“Uh, I’m twenty-six, miss.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Now, I’m looking for a painting to put in my daughter’s room.” She crossed her arms.

Gav paused for a second, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t, he said, “Well, um… what does she like? Our shop is more traditional, if she’s young, she might not be into the type of stuff we have here…”

“I didn’t ask. My daughter is ten. Show me something she’d like, please.”

“Uhh… umm…” Gavin hesitated. Girls like pink, right? Yeah! He did a quick scan of the room and noticed a sunset scene, mostly pink and orange. “Here! How’s this?” He took the painting down from where it was hanging and turned it to show the woman.

“Ugh! My daughter is ten, not senior!” She shouted, before storming out of the door dramatically.

Gav sat shocked for a second, and then put his head in his hands. He couldn’t work on the amount of sleep he had! The rest of the day he spent trying his best to cater to the wants of disrespectful customers. The highlight of his shift was the end, when he dramatically flipped the sign on the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and took a deep breath. Finally.

He basically sprinted into the back room, despite his exhaustion. Even though he hadn’t seen it today, he knew exactly which face he was going to paint.

Meanwhile, Michael Jones strolled up to the glass door of the shop.


	3. Chapter Three

Whenever Michael was in the area, which was about once a week, Gavin allowed him in after closing. They sometimes had a cup of tea together and reflected on how their days went. These were the times that Gavin lived for.

However, this time, Michael entered silently, as it was beginning to get late. As he crept through the shop towards the back room, he heard his friend’s voice humming softly. He smiled to himself and slowed his pace in order to keep his steps as silent as possible, as not to disturb Gavin while he was in his element.

Michael rounded the corner to the back room and stopped dead in his tracks.  
In front of him was Gavin Free. Palette on one side, cup of water on the other. He was lay on his back, feet up in the air, with a canvas between them. The Brit hummed on as he made little circles with his brush. On the canvas was the least of what Michael expected. A portrait. Not a self-portrait, a celebrity, or a character, but a portrait of… Michael. 

A gasp slipped out from between Michael’s lips, which was the trigger that Gavin needed to snap back to reality. The Brit took a second to process the situation that had presented itself. Even after processing it, his immediate reaction was still dramatic. He scrambled to his feet, dropping his piece and getting paint all over his jeans in the process. Seeming not to notice, he stared at Michael, who was at the door, mouth agape.  
“Was that…-” Michael began.

“A picture of you? No! No… God, no. I don’t even paint! I told you that!” Gavin struggled to hold the story that he had told to Michael for the last year.

“Gavin, you fucking idiot, I just saw you painting, and that was definitely me! I know my fucking face!” It was now that Michael took a proper look around the room, “Wait a minute…” He began to stroll around the edges of the room, looking at the paintings that were strewn around. Some were leant on the wall, others were in small piles, but all of them had something in common. Something other than all portraying the same person.

They were the colours, stroke patterns, style, of the art that Michael had been in love with since the moment that he saw his first piece. He recognised the bright tones that matched the ones hung around his house, the soft brush strokes that matched the piles of paintings that he had had in his basement for such a long time with nothing to do with. His eyes widened and he looked back at his friend.

“Gav, you’re…?” He didn’t need to finish his sentence for Gavin to let out a sigh and decide to come clean.

“Yeah! Okay, you caught me, dude, I’m the one that paints all those paintings that you come in here for. All those anonymous ones, they’re me! I have tons of them back here. I love putting them out for you because it makes me feel like my work is worth something!” Tears began to form in Gavin’s eyes. They were mostly from embarrassment. “I guess I should’ve told you, huh?” He looked down at the ground.

Michael smiled pitifully at his friend, “Gavin, sweetheart, I understand why you didn’t tell me. It’s okay! Finding out this way is much more exciting! I’ve always loved your work, my boy. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know! I just didn’t want you to think of me differently if you knew that I painted all of these…” Gav gestured to the art-filled room. “And I didn’t want you to think it’s weird that I paint you so often."

“I mean… I definitely wasn’t expecting it. Why do you do that?”

“Your face… it just…” Gavin looked up from the ground to meet Michael’s gaze, “it’s inspiring! Your eyes always shine in this certain way whenever you walk into the shop, and they shine in this different way whenever you’re looking at my work…” Gavin was moving his hands around as he spoke, as if they could translate the beauty that he saw in the man stood across the room from him. “You smile in this certain way whenever you see something you like…” Gavin closed his eyes, “you run your hands over my paintings always in the same way… and your nose twitches just the slightest bit when you like the texture…” 

Gavin realised what he was doing. He snapped his eyes open and put his hands back by his side. Michael’s jaw was virtually on the floor. 

“Oh God, sorry… I don’t mean to sound creepy or anything, Michael! I really don’t! Please don’t be creeped out.”

“You really think that? That’s why you paint me?”

“Well…” he paused, trying to figure out a way to undo everything that he had just said. When he didn’t find one, he continued, “Yeah, it is…” Gav shuffled, looking down at his feet.

“Hey… hey! Don’t get upset, Gavin. Why don’t we go across the street for a coffee? I’ll even make a little sign for the door to tell everyone to fuck off. How does that sound?” Michael smiled and put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. He moved his head up and down slowly, still looking at the ground. “Okay, buddy. Chillax for a minute while I write up that sign.” Gavin nodded again and Michael jogged out of the room.


End file.
